


Aspiration

by hatfilms



Series: Runaway Hats [8]
Category: Hat Films - Fandom, Hatfilms, The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arguments, Implied Relationships, M/M, Polyamory, Runaway Hats AU, idk what else to tag this as:0, runaways - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 09:13:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5411231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatfilms/pseuds/hatfilms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Who the fuck cares?" Smith slid the snide comment into the conversation they were having as he leant against the dresser in the dimly lit motel room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aspiration

**Author's Note:**

> for the runawayhats au 
> 
> check us out! runawayhats.tumblr.com

"Who the fuck cares?" Smith slid the snide comment into the conversation they were having as he leant against the dresser in the dimly lit motel room.

Trott looked up from where he sat on the bed talking to Ross, a confused frown on his face.  
"What do you mean?" He asked accusingly, looking as Smith held his hands up in defence, moving away from the dresser.

"What I mean is, is why do you keep on talking about this big 'dream' of yours? It isn't going to happen, mate. Not while you're like this. A Runaway." Smith replied, putting emphasis on runaway. Ross looked up at both Smith and Trott, not daring to enter in the conversation at any point.

"Because it's something I aspire to do, Smith. Unlike some, I actually plan on trying to reach a goal!" Trott raised his voice, turning to face Smith fully who just shrugged his shoulders in response, picking away at some of the peeling 90's style wallpaper behind the dresser.

"Ever since you ran away, you threw away any chance of fulfilling any dream, Trott. Just wake up and see the reality for once." Smith glared at Trott, balling his fists up before relaxing, shrugging the tension off, leaning back against the side of the dresser. 

It was a few seconds before Smith looked up to see Trott, who looked genuinely hurt, his mouth half open as tears filled his eyes.  
Trott didn't usually cry, it was rare for all of them, after building such a strong wall, trying to keep everything out that was deemed unsafe.  
"Oh shit." Ross murmured, giving a wide-eyed look to Smith who simply looked away.

"Oh fuck off, Smith.'" Trott shouted, gripping onto the dark linen bed sheets, crumpling them between his fingers.  
He didn't have anything to reply back with, he just sat there, an indescribable look of pain on his face. Tears fell down his cheeks, cascading onto the sheets below. 

"What's your big dream then? Huh? Want to be an actor? Or a footballer. Go on Trott, tell us." Smith put on a patronising tone as he crossed his arms, gritting his teeth, watching Trott crumble beneath his words.  
He was just pissed off, it wasn't even with Trott.  
It was just because he didn't have a dream himself, he didn't have a set goal in life anymore.  
Musician was a thing of the past, he had no way of ever regaining a guitar that he could think of.  
What else was there for him to do.  
He was a shipwreck, like the rest of them, lost out at sea.

He was knocked out of his thoughts by Trott, who finally began to speak again, his voice quiet.  
"My dream isn't to be an actor, or a footballer. To be perfectly honest, all I wanted to do was find some place to live and spend my life with you." 

Smith fell silent, no more side comments, rude remarks. No more patronising tones or sneers.  
He was just left in shock, his expression falling to that of guilt.  
"But hey." Trott added.  
"Maybe I should just wake up and see the reality in that it'll never happen." He looked up, his eyes glassy from tears, a sarcastic smile on his face.

Ross looked up. He was always the middle man. He was always the one that was supposed to sort things out but, he was helpless.  
He spoke up though, looking at Smith.  
"Go for a walk, Smith." He spoke with authority, despite being the younger of the three, he always managed to take the more mature role, whenever Trott wasn't.  
"I'm sorry." Smith murmured before grabbing his coat, leaving the room quickly.  
As he shut the door, dust floated down from the ceiling above the two left in the room, causing Trott to look up.  
"He's right." He whispered, Ross following Trott's gaze before returning to his face, trying to catch Trott's eyes.  
"Why do I have dreams anymore?"


End file.
